Don't Slam the Door
by serafinafive
Summary: Walt and Mike take Jesse to Rehab (This is a reupload. I am the original author, I have lost access to serafinafour)
1. Back-Seat

_AUTHORS NOTE: **I am serafinafour** - and I no longer have access to that account! (Details will be put on my profile page.) I am reuploading here, on serafinafive. PLEASE, change your bookmarks. I am sorry for this inconvenience, thankyou for bearing with me!_

* * *

Jesse flinched as the car door slammed.

"_Softly!_" hissed Walt.

He handed the keys to Mike, and watched him walk and turn the corner toward the house.

Walt was grateful that Jesse had been found, but for the amount of money this man was charging, he would have preferred someone that was more - obliging ? Mike was extremely professional, but something about the way he spoke to Walt really irked him.

Walt returned his full attention to the back seat again. "Hey, Jesse? Can you hear me? Come on now," Jesse was slumped forward so far that his head almost touched his knees. He was trembling a little, from the drugs, from the shock - Walt rubbed his shoulders, hoping it provided some sort of comfort... His cell rang. It would be Skyler, asking when he would be home.

Walt had no idea how long this would all take. He took a deep breath and prepared to talk the talk again. "Hello?"

"Hey Dad! Dad, guess what!"

"Junior, heyy. What is it?"

"We broke twenty-nine hundred!"

Walt flinched as he heard the intrusively loud, distinct _KA-CHING_ of the website. It may as well have been a gunshot.

"Twenty nine hundred and sixty eight!," Junior was overjoyed.

Jesse began to stir. "Uugh," Unfortunately, he had chosen now to start making some noise.

Walt shushed him quietly. This should only take a moment.

Walt could hear Skyler call something to Junior distantly.

"Mom says, can you remember to pick up some diapers?"

"Sure." _Walt had not remembered to pick up any last night, because that was when..._

KA-CHING._ KA-CHING._

Jesse suddenly vomited, violently. Everywhere.

_Oh my god..._

"Dad? What's that noise?"

"It's okay son," Walt gripped Jesse's arm, and with a shock he realised he meant it for both of them. It was too strange, that connect. "It's okay. I'm, um, uh. I'm just busy right now with..."

"... misterwhii...uuh.." Jesse started coughing.

"Je-JUNIOR, I'm Just gonna have quick meeting with a uhhh, a colleague from the school who needs taking care of," He planted a supporting hand under Jesse's forehead and pushed him up a little. "weee're, um, we're talking about a little problem that's arisen, and, well.."

Would Junior buy this? Walt was on temporary paternity leave, it wasn't even school hours, what would Skyler say, what would-

_KA-CHING_! it cut through him like a knife. Another lie. Another bit of fake charity and another lovely message left for that 'Wonderful Father'.

"Oh my god, it's at thirty-hundred!" Junior was completely distracted with delight.

"That's great, bye." Walt abruptly hung up and switched off. Excuses would have to come later, not now.

"Hey, hey..." He held Jesse's head in his hands, let him keep retching. If they hadn't found him so soon, would Jesse have been sick on the floor of that crack-den? (or whatever the hell it was called) Would he have choked? Would any of the surrounding scum have even thought to try and to help him?

_Scum_... The girl in the bed...

Walt pushed it away, it was too much to bear. He had to think of Jesse now.

Jesse seemed done with throwing up. He hadn't choked, at least. He would be safe, Walt would make sure of that. He gripped Jesse's shoulders. Just be OK. If Jesse could just be OK, if he could just find a way to make him alright again... Without raising his head, Jesse weakly reached and sought for his hand. Walt took it.

Where was that volatile little shit who had shrieked 'HOMO' at Walt for barely touching him, not two months back? Walt wanted him back. He'd broken him open and found this gentle Jesse who was terrifying him.

Mike opened the door - of course the mess made it's presence immediately known .

"Oh. Thanks, you decorated." He started to pull plastic bags out from under the front seat. Walt waited for Mike to complain about the state of his immaculate car interior , but instead he was handed a pair of plastic gloves and a cloth. "Large right? I only got large. I Shoulda thought to put down a sheet first." He shook his head and grimaced. "Well, I got some of his things, I don't know how much much he'll need, I imagine he'll be there a while," Mike put the bag of Jesse's things into the back seat. He closed the door quietly, this time.

Walt pulled on the gloves. Convenient thing to have, right there... '_I know a guy ',_ Saul had said to him that morning. '_A fixer_.' Since when did this all start, since when did Walt associate out with the sort of people who kept this sort of equipment for morbid tasks at hand?

Mike sat back in the front and rolled down the windows.

* * *

"So this place that we are taking him, it's good right?"

Walt kept saying _'we'_ as if he had firmly decided that Mike shared a joint responsibility for the poor idiot.

"It's a _very _good place." Mike reassured him. "There are a few smaller rehab centres around, but this is a really fancy place up north of town - more 'heavy duty' . They have more training, more staff-per-guest. Got a spa and gym. Very expensive."

"Fine, if that one is the best." Walt didn't even hesitate, "Cost doesn't matter. But, it's all confidential right?"

"All confidential. They all have disclosure laws."

"The police won't know anything?"

"Walter, they won't be interested. If he's not being investigated currently, he won't be for this. They wont share patient information with the police. Only with a court order in a special circumstance, otherwise no."

"Special circumstance?"

Why couldn't Walt just take his word for it? He shouldn't even have mentioned.

"Look, as long as your guy keeps his mouth shut about the business and doesn't try to kill anyone while he's in there, it'll be fine."

Walt scowled, "He won't talk, there's no way-", he broke off when Pinkman made a miserable noise from the back where he'd been strapped in. Walt turned around and put a reassuring hand on his knee. "Hey, you can lie down soon," he said softly. Then, to Mike,"Do you have any water?"

Mike handed him a bottle from the dashboard and waited silently as Walt preoccupied himself with fussing over his partner for a few minutes.

Mike wondered again how this pairing had come to be. What on earth did this inept kid contribute to Walt's elite meth production business - what made him so invaluable?

"You two related?" asked Mike. He meant it seriously.

"Hmm? Oh no, no. He was my student."

Not a grade A student, Mike guessed. Maybe the teacher-student thing made him so protective of the kid. He handed Walt a plastic bag for the dirty gloves and cloth. He'd get the car properly cleaned later. Walt would be paying the bill, of course.

"So, do we just turn up at this place, or do we have to call them first?" asked Walt.

"Well, here's the thing. They wont take him how he is, like this. We need to give it some time, I'm not sure how long that would be."

"What do you mean they won't take him 'how he is'? It's a rehab centre."

Walt didn't have a lot of experience with junkies, for a guy who was working with a junkie.

"They wont accept him as sick as this - that's not their job. They'll just tell you to take him to a hospital. They wont want to be held liable if he suddenly dies."

"So, let me get this straight," Walt took of his glasses and rubbed at his eyes in an exaggerated manner. Mike was learning that Walt was the sort of guy who liked to make a point of letting you know he was irritated, "_You_, are _telling me_, that _rehab_ centres do not accept people who are _on drugs_?"

"That is _exactly_ what I am telling you, recovery only. And you can watch your tone."

"That is ridiculous!" Snapped Walt - he paused and lowered his voice to a hiss, "This whole thing is ridiculous!"

"I didn't make the rules," said Mike calmly, "and this is what you should expect for partnering with someone like him."

"What if he's not OK today? It has to be today, it _has_ to be soon. He can't be left alone!" Walt flipped back again, "I can't exactly take him to my own house!"

"So, take him back in his house then."

Both Walt's hands flew up, he grasped his head as if a disaster had happened. "God no! That's where..."

"Alright, alright. I remember." Mike also remembered not seeing Walt there, but decided not to press that issue. To be fair, Walt was going above and beyond the call of duty with this kid. "We'll give him a few hours to snap out of it, he's okay where he is." How much more could Pinkman throw up in his car, anyway? Although, right now, Walt was proving to be the more irritating of the two. Talking to him was a real chore.

Walt was staring straight through Pinkman now. "It's not just the drugs, it's the shock..."

_Not just the drugs._ They hadn't been talking about it, but they both knew what the _real_ issue was here.

"I know he's shaken up about the girlfriend. It's very sad. Look, he just needs to get walking and coherent enough to sign the consent forms and it should be okay, we can probably bribe somebody to take him in quickly without too much questioning and fuss."

A thought crossed Mike's mind- Pinkman's girlfriend had died, and the only person he had called was _this guy?_ Was there seriously no one else?

Walt was doing everything this kid's family should be doing right now, if Pinkman even had any. You had to admire that.


	2. Check-in

_Contact in case of emergency:_ Saul Goodman

_Relationship to patient:_ Legal Representative

_Emergency contacts Address:_ The Offices of Saul Goodman & Associates...

_Emergency contacts number:_

Walt began to put down Saul's number; then hesitated. He crossed it out and the put the number of his own second cell phone. He added Saul's number underneath, as a secondary option.

They were let into a private waiting room, where Jesse slouched on the couch beside him, half awake as Walt gradually filled out the papers spread on the coffee table one by one.

Mike had left after a while, said he'd get some air and wait outside. Walt was glad, it was easier without him. Mike had actually told the people he was _called Mike_ on the way in and advised that Walt give his real name too - like hell Walt wanted to do that.

_Signed:_

Serenity Rehabilitation only took self-consenting patients, so Walt prodded Jesse gently and put the pen in his hand. He tapped the place where a signature was needed on each sheet; Jesse was able to hold the pen steady now, but he seemed to have switched off. Jesse was just running on auto-pilot, he'd run out of tears sobbing in the car.

_Type of substance taken:_

_Last date substance was taken:_

_Frequency of use:_

_Any previous history of self-harm:_

Self-harm. Did that mean self-harm like the way Jesse hurt himself and nearly killed himself with drugs? But all the papers were about drugs. Was the question asking if Jesse had a habit off cutting himself? Walt looked at Jesse. No, but he decided to put a yes. He wanted them to keep a strict eye on him. The papers became jumbled.

_Date of Birth:_ He had to look at Jesse's drivers licence.

_Marital Status:_ Single

_Dependants:_ N/A

_Place of Birth:_

_Mothers maiden name:_

Did they really need so much information? Jesse wasn't talking right now...He had to call up Saul for some of these answers.

Ugh, it wanted details of spent and unspent criminal cautions and convictions. They had to check patients wouldn't be a danger to others, he supposed. Saul laughed and asked him if he had enough paper for the list. Walt did actually need a second sheet. Tedious crimes; Speeding (numerous), shoplifting (numerous), getting caught high (numerous), jay-walking while high (twice). A dozen more ridiculous things. But Jesse had never been in trouble for violence which was good, and amazingly, for a drug dealer, he had never been caught in actual possession of anything.

_Name of referrer:_

Walt should have asked Saul to come down here and do this, really. But he didn't trust anyone else to take charge of Jesse right now. Walt had filled it all in already, anyway. But it had to have a signature from the referrer.

Walt wondered who he should be, Mr Pinkman - or Mr Lambert?

"Mr White!" A sweet voice chilled him straight to the bone.

A girl in the Serenity uniform had entered the room - she was smiling widely."What are you DOING here!"

"Charlotte, what a surprise!" Charlotte was one of the brightest students Walt had ever had the pleasure to teach. She had graduated about five months ago.

_Walt had never dreamed that he would hate this girl as much as he did right now._

He stood up immediately to greet her - they shook hands warmly.

"Gosh, this is just - wow. Really, such a surprise -You work here now? I thought you were studying?"

"Oh yeah this is just some work experience while I'm studying. Hands on experience with patients and stuff, It's SO rewarding."

Walt glanced at Jesse who was watching them now; not with much interest, but watching them.

"So, where are you now?" He asked, "UNM? I thought you were considering further afield?"_ FAR AWAY. He could have sworn this girl had been extremely keen on New York?_

"Yeah! You remember! I was, and I applied and everything, but then I was like, hey. I'd just miss my family too much, you know?".

"Oh, I understand, that's absolutely understandable." _Why couldn't she just go away?_

"I met Flynn's mom in town last week. I mean, your wife. Whens the baby due? She was so pregnant. She said it was due really soon, any day now?"

"Ah, she was born the day before yesterday, we named her Holly."

"Oh my God! that is so wonderful Mr White, that is SO great." she held her arms out, and he leaned in for the hug. "And it's a girl? Holly? That is so great. I can't wait to tell Mom."

Charlotte turned her attention to Jesse sat on the couch. "Is this your nephew?"

_This was turning into a nightmare. Well, an even worse nightmare. His nephew. Walt mentioned to someone on his way in that he was Jesse's uncle - why'd he do that? It had been a great idea at the time._

"His name is Jesse. He's a bit out-of-sorts right now."

Charlotte nodded. She bent down a little. It was quite condescending. "Hey Jesse, I'm Charlotte. I work here, It's lovely to meet you. We'll probably be seeing a lot of eachother." Jesse gave a sort-of nod, and said nothing. Walt couldn't be sure how much Jesse was really taking in right now, but even to Jesse this girl was a kid - that had to be annoying.

Charlotte turned back to Walt and smiled sympathetically. "It takes time. I'll make sure he settles right in. Is this his bag? I'll take that." She picked it up. "I'll come take you to his room when you're done with the papers. I'm just getting it all ready now."

"Wait, Charlotte."

"Yep?"

"Jesse's not my nephew."

"Oh yeah?" She didn't break her smile, just waited for Walt to go on. She didn't know what he meant.

_What on earth would Walt do if this girl started telling everyone and his wife that he'd been to this rehab centre, and it was with Jesse Pinkman?_

"Ah look. This is a problem." He walked toward the door and looked through the glass to see there was anyone else around. The truth is, Jesse's an ex-student of mine, from a few years back." He spoke more seriously now, let her know this was important. "We aren't related."

"Right," Said Charlotte, as if she were already 'getting' it. "So, you mean like, that nephew thing was just a cover or something?"

"Yes. Jesse's had a really hard time of things. He got involved with the wrong people. His parents disowned him, they wont have anything to do with him."

Walt thought that was about right anyway? Jesse rarely talked about his parents, but Walt knew that had been some kind of a falling out and Jesse had not lived with them since school. Jesse just talked about his deceased Aunt Ginny.

"Jesse didn't have anyone else to turn to. He visited me at the school the other day to ask me for help, because he remembered me helping him before - back when he was my student. So I'm checking him in here."

"Ohh, right."

"I don't really know why I said I was his uncle, it just seemed easier than telling the whole story. It just slipped out, because I rather feel like I'm acting as an uncle to him right now."

"Aw," Charlotte put her head to one side and gazed at him with admiration. It was working. "That is so sad. But that's just so kind of you to look out for him like that. The kindest ever. I was thinking of maybe teaching. I'd be SO happy if I was a teacher and one of my students was in trouble, and then he remembered me enough to find me out and ask me for help. Jesse's so lucky he had you - you're a really great teacher Mr White. Your baby's gonna be the luckiest little girl."

_Ka-ching._ Why was he hearing that website noise when it wasn't even around? He was truly going crazy.

" It's what any teacher would do." He motioned for her to come a little closer. "Um, Charlotte?"

"Mm hmm?"

"I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about my being here," said Walt softly, " I think it's very embarrassing for Jesse, needing his old teacher to help him like this, and having people know that his parents don't care. I told him that we'd keep this a secret."

"Oh absolutely, confidentiality and stuff. I NEVER tell people about the patients, ever."

"Of course, but I do mean - if you run into Junior or my wife again - I would appreciate it if you just didn't mention to them at all that you'd seen me here. With the baby and everything, it's just a lot to juggle."

She looked confused, "Aw, Ok. I wont mention anything to Flynn or Mrs White. Wow, they don't know how great you are. I wont tell anyone - not even my Mom, I promise. it's cool, Mr White."

"Thankyou."

The girl picked up Jesse's bag and left the room. Walt sighed as he sat back down and scowled at the last paper he'd been looking at.

_Name of referrer:_ Walter White

_Relationship to patient:_ Former Teacher


	3. Don't talk

Walt examined his surroundings. Well, Jesse's surroundings. Modern minimalist décor - there was a large canvas print of a lily on the wall, a double bed, an en-suite. Walt wasn't sure what he had been expecting, it was closer to a luxury hotel than a hospital but - there was still something quite clinical about the place. The bareness, the lack of character. In a way it was not that unlike Jesse's apartment had felt, if you had removed the piled up beer bottles and the bong on the counter.

"Really sorry about Adam not being here, but normally most people check-in before lunch. Think he's at a NA meeting? He's in charge of mental health and well-being." Charlotte walked over to where Jesse had sat down on the bed. "Hey Jess, do you wanna sleep now?"

"He prefers Jesse."

"Ah, okay."

Walt looked at the books on the table. Two stood out; a book on Taoist meditation, and a bible - what a mix. He scrutinised the floor and then the window, everything looked like it had been cleaned recently. The room was on the ground floor- that had pro's and con's. He pushed at the window. It had a lock, but was not currently locked... "Can this be locked?"

"Yes. I think so? I think there's a key somewhere..."

"Can he lock his own room?"

"Yeah. It's really safe here, Mr White. I was nearly gonna work at Hope - they take a lot of people referred through court by the State, you know - like people that don't wanna be there? So my Dad said I should...hey, I think Jesse wants to sleep?"

"Is there air-conditioning?"

"Yeah the dial is just over there." Charlotte smiled, "You sound exactly my Dad when he looked around my dorm room at UNM, Mr White. He checked EVERYTHING, like all the air vents and window locks, and he checked to see if there was any rot or whatever. He's like _obsessed_ with rot, hah. He really wanted me to live at home, but my Mom thought it would be better for me if I stayed on campus because..."

_Just Shut up._ "Thankyou, Can you leave us now? Jesse's really tired."

"Yeah, sure thing."

Yes, he was taking full responsibility for Jesse, it was not unlike a parent- but checking his drug-addicted partner into rehab was not in ANY way comparable to taking his son or daughter to college! There was something too awful about that thought. God, just imagine it; just imagine some kind of farcical ex-junkie graduation ceremony.

Flynn and Holly would never end up in a situation like this, needing_ constant surveillance_ and _therapy_.

Charlotte left. Walt glimpsed Mike through the door when she opened it - he tapped his watch and gestured that he was leaving. Fine, Walt would get a taxi home.

When Walt turned he saw that Jesse had settled in - but he was lying on his back. _Absolutely not._ Walt grabbed two of the large pillows, "Not on your back Jesse," he reminded him quietly, "sleep on your side." He gently twisted him over.

_"_Stop._"_ It was the first thing Jesse had said in hours.

Walt hesitated but then decided to ignore the request - he stuffed those pillows firmly behind Jesse's back and pulled off his shoes.

Walt fastened the window, closed the blinds, and then sat on the bed next to him. _This was just like last night._

But Jesse didn't know that - he didn't know that Walt had been there at all. He never knew Walt had let himself in through the broken pane, and sat on his bed like this. Walt felt like vomiting just thinking about it.

He rubbed Jesse's shoulder. "You're safe now, just try to sleep."

It was not just like last night. There had been a couple in the bed - and now there was just one. Jesse would wake up alone in the morning, alone. _Jesus..._

The minutes ticked by, was Jesse asleep? Could he sleep?

"Stop it,"said Jesse sharply.

Stop what? Walt hadn't moved for a few minutes. "What is it Jesse?"

Jesse opened his eyes, and looked right at him.

Although he was in safe surroundings now, Jesse looked no better than he had done on the floor of that crack house. There was no change.

"Go home Mr White," he whispered. "Go back to your family and stuff."

Walt took his hand and squeezed it. "I'm good right here," he said softly.

That made Jesse cry.

_This is what pain looks like._

Jesse twisted his hand out of Walt's. Walt had expected him to grip it, like he had in the car...

He remembered what Jesse had said; _"I killed her, it was me._"

"Jesse, don't blame yourself."

"Please. I don't wanna talk about it. Not ever. Please. Please, Mr White."

_Status: Single_

"Jesse..."

_Thankyou for saying that._

"Alright Jesse. If you want that."

_Walt realised that he still desperately just wanted Jane to go away. Even dead, she was hurting him. _

He watched Jesse for a while longer. He waited for him to stop sniffing, for his breath to become regular -to close his eyes and to finally sleep.

_Like he'd waited for her to stop moving and finally 'sleep'..._

_BLEEP._

Walt flipped open his phone.

A message from Skyler.

"_Come Home_."

Jesse was asleep.

Walt switched off the light, and closed the door softly behind him.

* * *

Third day in

"He is as well as can be expected. He's very quiet, very sweet. The staff like him."

_Quiet. Sweet._ A few days ago Walt would have thought they were discussing the wrong person.

"He's normally pretty high energy," Walt explained._ Loud, Rude._ _A pain in the ass._ "When he's normal. I'd describe as quite energetic - normally." _Please get him like that again._

Adam nodded. "I understand. We are doing everything we can to try and help him get better."

"Is he walking around yet? He didn't want to leave his room, yesterday."

"Yes, he is walking around today, a little. He even walked right out of here this morning."

"Oh.."

"He didn't get further than the end of the car park. I went and asked him to come back, and he did."

"Where was he going?"

"He said he just felt like walking around." Adam shook his head. "They just want to walk around sometimes - same as you or me. No real plan in mind. It's alright though, we check they don't go too far."

_They just want to walk around sometimes_. Jesse was a '_they_' . One of '_those_'. Walt didn't like it.

"He left during a group meeting - it was his first, just an introduction. We put him with other young people, but I don't think Jesse really felt much like talking. Or listening."

"So, other than that, is he uh, more alert? Does he understand what's going on?" _Please tell me he hasn't lost his mind._

"Jesse doesn't seem confused, which is very good. But he just doesn't care. We have to prompt him to remember to do anything - to eat, to wash, to shave. He does what he is told, though. He's very easy."

"He wont eat?"

"He does, we just have to remind him. He doesn't have much appetite but that is not unusual at this stage."

"What about ..." Walt wanted to ask, but didn't want to ask. "Uh, has he..tried to..?"

"Tried to what?"

Walt decided to just come out with it, "Hurt himself? It's just that we were very concerned for him, he was terrible the other day. Just awful."

"He hasn't done anything like that. He is very upset of course, very shocked and grief-stricken. One step at a time."

"Grief-stricken?"

"Waking up to find his girlfriend like that, it must have been a terrible shock as well as a loss."

Walt's heart skipped a beat.

"He told you about that?"

"No, Charlotte did. Jesse must have told her. I actually wanted to ask you if you could provide any more details about that - anything that can help Jesse is extremely useful."

* * *

"Mike! Mike? Did you tell them about Jane?" Walt found somewhere private to take the call-back he had requested from Saul.

"Hello Walter, good afternoon. Did I tell who about who?"

"Did you tell the people at Serenity Rehabilitation about my partners girlfriend?"

There was a long pause. Walt could faintly hear a television in the background. Mike seemed to be at home.

"Umm...Yeah?" Mike took his sweet time answering.

_You stupid Bastard!_

Walt controlled himself, took a deep breath and decided not to scream down the phone that Mike was a stupid bastard, "When was that?"

Another long and tedious pause followed. It sounded like an old western movie Mike was watching.

"I think it was when I was talking to one of the girls who worked there. Little blonde? She'd just left his room? Real nice kid. You and Pinkman were busy."

"Why would you do that?"

"Just a second." The background noise stopped, Mike had switched off the television. "Why'd I do what? Tell a girl at the centre about Pinkman's girlfriend?"

"He is supposed to be keeping a low profile!"

"I'm not quite following you, Walt. Sitting around in a rehab centre, not doing crime - that's about as low profile as you can get. What's going on in there? He do something stupid?"

"They can't find out!"

"They? Rehab? Find out about the girlfriend overdosing? Is that what you mean?"

"Yes!" Walt was angry. Saul had told him Mike was a '_Real Pro_'. He had paid for a professional.

It was silent from Mike's end for a while, before he spoke again. "We discussed this. The police know already." There was a flicking sound as if Mike had pulled out a sheet of paper and was reading notes. "I removed all undesirable objects from the house. Pinkman gave the police a statement, using his real name, he did not get in any trouble. The police know about it, so, no - it doesn't matter if his rehab place know."

"But what if they find out about what _really_ happened?"

"So Pinkman might tell a therapist in rehab that he took some heroin too, so what? It was pretty obvious, and the majority of the junkies in there would have used it - that's what makes them junkies, Walt. I already told you about the disclosure laws, it's all kept private. And if he's not in possession, they have nothing. I removed all trace from the house, remember?"

"No, not that! That doesn't matter. What if they start asking about her, and it reopens an investigation or something; my fingerprints are in there! Yours too! You went in there and touched everything... And then what if it all comes out about the business? The business and everything connected with it? What if it all comes out about me, her, him, you, the money...the meth, and me."

"My God Walt, shush. There is no investigation to re-open, it was an OD. And _you_ said he wasn't a talker-_ YOU_ said that."

"I know, and he's not, but,"

"He's not talking to anyone about the business? Cause if he is, that is something I will _take care_ of-"

"No, he's not talking!" _God! 'take care of'? Walt had suspected that there might be something more to Mike,_ "But-"

"I checked the house already, but - anything else went on in there that I don't know about?"

_YES_

"NO, listen..." Mike wasn't letting Walt get a word in.

"No, you listen. You are paranoid Walt. I don't really see how this does have anything to do with the business. Or even with you. It was a personal matter - they took some heroin and got shot up and she died, that's generally what happens. Scrawny kids like them taking that stuff; it would have happened to him soon too."

"Mike..."

"I mentioned about it to that girl who works there, because I thought it would be helpful for Pinkman if she knew, alright? Thought maybe he'd get some extra understanding if they knew he was grieving. Because he was sad. Extra sympathy hugs or whatever. He seemed too shaken up to tell them anything about it himself. I just_ mentioned_ it. A personal favour from me._ Alright?_ That explain it for you?"

"You've made a problem Mike. This is a problem. It just is. I guess it can't be taken back now, but you should have talked to me about it first!"

"I knew that girl couldn't know already because she was so chipper. And it made sense you wouldn't talk about it in front of Pinkman. But this amazes me Walt - I really assumed that you'd tell them later about Pinkman's girlfriend yourself. I thought you'd tell it to the person in charge, or to his doctor - I mean it's pretty important - or don't you think so?"

"So you just assumed I told them about her? Why the hell would you assume I'd tell them about her!?"

"'_Her',' her'_, you keep saying _'her'_." Mike's tone changed completely,"Why are you obsessing over _HIS_ girlfriend like this? What the hell is really going down between you and Pinkman - this is disturbing Walt! I am really starting to wonder about you. She's dead! What about him? I don't get you. You took good care of your partner, I respect that. You want him to get better, right? What do you think rehab is? It's therapy. And he's not really in there for drugs, is he? - Like you said, Pinkman's real problem is losing her, so, let HIM talk about losing her. Let him get treatment that he actually needs, if you really care about him."

"That is unfair! Of course I care about Jesse, you don't know half the things I've done for him-"

"Oh there it is, you remember his name now."

_"How dare you!"_

"Goodbye Walter. And my fingerprints _aren't_ in his house, I'm not some amateur like you."

Mike hung up on him.

Walt flicked his phone shut and left. He couldn't even slam the door on his way out of the building because it had some sort of damper on it. Fucking thing.

* * *

_ "No, Jesse hasn't talked to me, at all. That man outside told me - your friend who came in with you?"_

_"Mike told you about Jane?"_

_"Was Jane her name? Oh my God. But yeah, he told me that when Jesse woke up, she was dead right next to him. That same morning, the same day he came here. I couldn't believe it, that's the saddest ever. And then he hid somewhere and tried to overdose too? So horrible. I told Adam, and he said Jesse would need special counselling, and everyone's being extra kind. Though, he said that we shouldn't talk to Jesse about her, unless Jesse starts first._

_I had to go, but Adam said, that the night staff said, that Jesse cried all night on the first night. _ _I just feel so stupid - Adam told me before that I should try not to act so happy all the time, 'cause loads of people in here have tried to kill themselves and everything. And I've been doing that, I really have, because everyone in here is so hurt. But I was excited to see you and you seemed so happy, so I just thought it would be OK? Like I thought maybe he couldn't be that bad because you brought him in and you were happy._

_I mean, oh my God, I know you're really kind and everything; but you could have at least stopped me, Mr White - when I started jumping up and down about the baby. I mean, it all happened to him just that morning._

_I mean, Mr White, weren't you sad too? "_


	4. Floored

"Heya Mike, good mornin. Sorry to call you up so early."

Early for Saul, maybe. But Mike had been up since six am. "What do you need?"

"Got a quick little OD job for you. It has to be done now, _pronto_. Pays thirteen hundred dollars just for ten minutes of your time, twenty tops - in and out!"

That was high, for 'twenty minutes'. Seeing as it was Saul - Mike asked questions.

"Details?"

"You actually know this client already - uh, know _of_ him. Walter White? Just had the deal with your guy? Thanks again for arranging that by the way, would be great to keep that up. Verrry nice..."

Walter White, _Gus's new chemist_. Mike sat up. "This is the school teacher - he needs help with an OD?" The old family man needed a cleanup job - who the hell died? Did he and a friend get drunk on the new wealth and mix it up with something extra?

"Yes and no, he's commissioned it. It's for the other one..."

Ah.

"…for that 'junkie partner' who was supposedly under control," Mike completed it for Saul. Two days. It had been just two days since the deal went down and the guy was dead already. "He was a liability from what I understand."

"'Was'? Uh, no - his girlfriend has uh, overdosed on smack at his house." Saul sounded embarrassed.

Mike grimaced. Damn it Saul. _Look at these people you've hooked us up with._ Of course Mike would have to be the one to break this to his boss. If these guys garnered police attention it could be a problem for everyone connected - the whole chain.

"Mike?"

"Alright."

"Yeah. Anyway, can ya go over there and get the place all squeaky clean for when the ambulance and such arrive? He'll let you in. Oh, the most important thing - his money is there. The authorities can_not_ see it. Should be four hundred and eighty thousand total. It's in a duffel bag and it could be hidden - you might have to look around for it. Take it, and bring it here to me."

"I might have to look for it...and the guy's there". _So this was the catch._ "This guy - he can't just give it to me himself?"

"Ehh, wellll, ehhhhhh-"

_"Saul!_" The reason for the high price was becoming clear.

"Well, he's confused, a bit freaked out - obviously, since his girl is.. Anyway, he can't be trusted with that money - just bring it here ok? The price is good!"

"No, the price is low. What, this guy is just gonna let me do my job and walk out of there with his half-a-million dollars? I don't like to start my day with getting shot by a 'freaked out' junkie, Saul, " _Especially not on a weekend morning_. Addicts were extremely lengthy to deal with and Mike still had to do food shopping before he picked up Kaylee at eleven. "Is he still high?"

"Let me just..."

"If you don't know, then say you don't know."

"I spoke to Walter White, he didn't tell me if he was still high."

"Walter White - he isn't going to be there."

"No , it would be just you."

It was best that Mike dealt with this matter alone - although it would certainly be easier to work if White handled this partner that _apparently_ obeyed him.

"Look, he's just a little one, just a little junkie. I understand how strongly you feel about...I mean, I'm VERY sorry about the cat-flap thing before - that was a lack of foresight on my part. Trust me, he's...heh, seriously. Doesn't even carry weapons. Name of Jesse Pinkman? You wont have heard of him."

"I've heard of him, I ran a background check on them both already."

"Ah yeah, course you would, research! that's what I like to hear. So then, you know he's not a big player. Or even any kind of player. He's really not even like a - "

"Saul shut up for one second."

"Sure, sure."

He'd given the guy's record the glance over…he was an absolute joke. "Just tell me this- will he co-operate and let me work?" Mike vividly recalled the last time he paid a home visit to one of Sauls' 'harmless little' meth-head clientèle - Crazy woman had stabbed in the leg, through a cat-flap. With with a _fork_.

"Of course, yes! He wont be a problem. Sorry, did I not say?, He knows to expect you, and he'll co-operate with everything."

"You are sure?"

"_Yes!_ He's just confused, that's all. He's scared - his partner asks that you be patient with him. Be _nice_... uh, not that you ain't nice anyway, Mike. Look, he'll do what he's told, please, just tell him that I sent you."

"If things do get messy, I will not be happy."

"So you'll do it?"

"What do you think?" Obviously he had to. It was just that getting details for a job out of Saul could be like trying to squeeze blood out of a stone sometimes.

"Tell him to wait outside where I can see him. I'll be right there."

* * *

It wasn't the guy with freaky fingernails, fumbling in his jacket again - it was some other guy with a deeper voice who stooped over Jesse and shook him with urgency.

"Hey man," Jesse wasn't dealing today. "I got nothing for ya." _So lay off._ He was all out. Money, drugs - poof! gone. He had nothing left that anyone on earth could want from him, so, in theory, he should be invisible now.

This guy wouldn't let up, though. Started cupping his_ face_.

"Hey!" Jesse wanted to shove him away but the guy grabbed his wrists, trying to hold him still.

"Jesse, it's _me_, Walt!"

Ah...yeah. He relaxed. Mr White was OK. Thought he'd been in danger of getting it up the ass for a few scary seconds there. Of course Mr White flew straight into it; _You gotta come with me, blah blah, we gotta cook, blah BLAH! it HAS to be now! The methyl-amine is turning pink and fizzy because of some weird scientific shit that I know you'll believe because I'm a lying bastard, that's what I do, I just lie and pull stories out of butt all day_.. Wow, but Mr White was really taking this no-show very seriously.

"No, no. No. I'm good ." No way was Jesse gonna go to work today.

Despite Jesse's protesting, he roughly tried to lift him up. _Oh my God, Mr White, just shut up and give me an F (for I don't give a FUCK) and leave me in peace._ His Mom would probably let him sleep in, Aunt Ginny'd definitely let him sleep in. Why'd he even wanna cook so bad right now anyway? Didn't he like, have a baby he was supposed to be looking after?

Oh yeah, of course that was gonna be Jesse's fault too, him missing out on time with her. You son of a bitch, you made me miss the first time my daughter blinked or sniffed or _shat_. Now he had Jesse clamped ridiculously in-between his legs - like a giant, uncute koala bear. _Mr White, the ugliest koala bear_. Make cartoon series out of it. Crazy old bastard. Did that even make sense, though? Maybe it was like with kangaroo's, and only the girl koala's did that...

Jesse remembered why he was there. The panic struck him so hard that he might have collapsed again - if he weren't already on the floor. Couldn't sink much further than he was right now without passing straight through it and into the earth. The panic took away his breath, it took away his vision,It took away everything except the overwhelming stink in the room. He was suffocating in it.

Someone touched his arm, "I know you're very upset, but you have to communicate with me." The paramedic lady from earlier knelt beside him with a clipboard.

"I'm sorry, lady, I can't even..."

"I need to know what happened."

Okay, okay. Jesse at least knew the answer to that one. "I, uh ... I woke up, and then I found her-" He faltered as Mr White pushed him back, held his head in his hands to look at him - only, he wasn't Mr White, he was Janes' dad. The words he'd rehearsed caught in his throat and the truth spilled right out, "I killed her, it was me."

Mr Margolis just stared though him. His eyes were_ fucking massive._ Massive and _black_. Jesus Christ, if eyes could work like mouths, those things would swallow him.

_'I'M SO SORRY_! 'wouldn't even cut it. There was nothing that Jesse could say, or do.

"Hey...hey, please don't just stare at me!" _Don't JUST stare at me. Blame me, or slap me, or something!_

Mr Margolis' eyes were gonna kill him, and Jesse wasn't gonna to put up any resistance. If that was was what the guy wanted , he could have it. But then Mr Margolis abruptly let go of him and made for the door, leaving Jesse just stuck there with himself again.

"Will you both be coming?" Lady needed to know.

Was he even allowed to do that? Seemed so rude, to just tag along with them. But, Mr Margolis hadn't said 'no'. Oh Christ, what if Janes' mom went too? He hadn't even thought about her mom - didn't know anything about her, but she existed. He couldn't even handle that idea.

"Later, if that's OK." Separate transport, for sure. "Give me some time." One or two more hits would do the job. He could trade, he'd think of something...Jesse tried to stand up, but it was so tiring. He could just wait around and grab the leg of whoever stumbled over him next - hey, pal, please, - its my birthday - my twenty-fifth! come on! The guys in here were good guys, they all understood it.

_"_Jesse,_ listen-"_

"Shut up!"

Mr White didn't understand it.

"Idiot! How much heroin does half a million dollars buy anyway?"

Mr White joined him on the floor. Yeah, um, how about NO. He'd get up and go afterall . He'd do it as soon as he found his shoes; the floor was all needley-scabby-piss-stained-gross - a person could seriously injure themselves on it. Jesse still wasn't over the fact that Spoodge let his kid actually live in here, let him sleep here.

Oh my god. He couldn't believe it... Some asshole had stolen one of his shoes. Who'd steal one shoe? the whack-jobs in here were so far gone out of their minds that they couldn't even properly... couldn't...

_"_Jesse, you are not good here, OK?"

_Get off me._

"Your body is running dangerously low on _electrolytes_!" Mr White was still gripping onto him, was still rambling - his mom would call it '_making a scene_', not that anyone here would give two shits. "You go marching off out there, and you will be dead within an hour..." he put a hand on Jesse's shoulder and pushed him back down to the floor. "I'll take you some-place nice and safe, come on now!"

He felt like a yo-yo on a string. "Jesus, Mr White - so is it stay or go?"

_I can never figure out what you want from me._

He waited, but no reply came. Mr White had stopped talking altogether. Maybe he'd actually stopped talking a while ago.

_"Shh, shhh, shh..."_

Mr White was shushing him, as if Jesse was the one who was making a crap-load of noise. He wasn't trying to drag him to work, or calling him an idiot - he was just holding him really tight. Seemed Mr White did get it afterall, so Jesse sort of hugged him back until they were definitely both hugging. His senses returned and he realised that he was crying hard enough to bring the whole damn sky crashing down on their heads.

* * *

Sorry it took so long!

Thought I'd go back before going forward...I wasn't sure how to write Saul and Jesse in particular, I find them very difficult.

A lot of this is stuff that I don't necessarily think would actually happen. I think Mike would actually have a very brief exchange on the phone with Saul - but it just ended up being long. I also don't think he would have had that talk would Walt in the last chapter on the phone about Jane but it just suddenly was fun to write.

Breaking Bad ate my soul . I cannot stop reading fanfic, reading essays, watching music video's, arguing with people on reddit who hate Jesse. I've gone crazy. I started making music video's too *twitch* I have about ten 'sort of' fics now that I'm not sure what to do with and structure into something (Now I more deeply understand why there are collections of one-shots!) .

Ooh, I found a deleted scene on my dvd from ABQ - OF WALT ESCORTING JESSE OUT OF THE CRACK SHACK AND PUTTING HIM IN MIKE'S CAR! Wow! But he does not get in the car with him, nor does he even put on Jesse's seatbelt, so, I'm quite glad that was cut because in my fantasy he would absolutely put on Jesse's seatbelt at the very least.

(Yes the Gale AU is still being written but now it has multiple what if's and I'm very confused)


	5. Chapter 5

He shoved away the thing in his face, whatever it was. Jesse was splashed in the process, but he was already soaked. Jesus, he was _freezing._ He remembered being dragged, half-drowned out of a pool at a mad insane after-school party. The cops had shown up and called the parents of all the left-overs like him who had been too shit-faced to escape in time. The next thing he knew, his Dad was bending over him, trying to identify him. _Yes, this one is mine, unfortunately. Date of birth? September 22nd, 1984. _He was being a dick about everything - saying that it might teach Jesse a lesson if he actually died. He told the cops that they should have just left him there, where he'd put himself, and they'd all laughed about it – which he felt was pretty unfair. Jess knew they were joking, but it was still really _dickish_.

But now he wished that had happened, because this other shit _had_ to be fake.

"_Be careful..." _people were talking. A toilet flushed. "_Emilia, bring it back, he'll need it again."_

Again and again, it seemed endless. His head throbbed and the light seemed to grow dimmer and dimmer, every second. He didn't have anything left in him at all. It felt like he was just heaving up his guts, empty and painful.

A woman was speaking; he just caught the end of it. "...isn't he on methadone?" They had to be nurses. He had thought she was saying something about meth – everything was about meth.

"He came in really late yesterday," said a guy above him. "He hasn't been assessed yet."

"_Oh for f-"_ she trailed off, sighing. "Who was he asking for, his Mom? Can't anyone get hold of her?"

"He kept asking about a _'her', _yeah. Charlotte told me who that might be."

They moved further away and talked really quietly. Just the guy came back, and Jesse could see more clearly now. He was dressed in really bright white - it hurt his eyes.

"Hey, Jesse." The dude sat on a chair next to the bed and leaned toward him. "Can you understand me now? Do you know where you are?" He pulled Jesse's hands away from his face. "_Look at me."_

"I don't know, man."

"Hazard a guess?"

_It could only be two places, and it wasn't prison._ "Hospital," he said finally. His own voice sounded strange to him.

"You're in rehab. You're safe and we're gonna look after you for a while. I'm Diego." Diego tore off a piece of toilet paper, and wiped some puke off of himself. _Shit, what had Jesse done to the guy?_

Rehab. _This was wrong _ - it wasn't supposed to be him, it was supposed to be _her_. _Oh God. _He was sweating and shivering uncontrollably.

Diego put a hand on Jesse's shoulder - acting like he was suddenly tight with him, which he wasn't.

"Ok buddy. _Drink_, this time. You are _very_ sick. You lost a lotta fluid." He tapped at some notes on the bedside table, like they held some kind of answer.

He took Jesse's hand, prised it open and made him take a yellow cup. Jesse stared at it. He'd heard all about rehab, from plenty of people. Some places had plastic everything, cause they didn't trust junkies to do anything right. They basically assumed that you would drop and smash ceramic stuff like a complete retard. Then, you'd either cut yourself with the shards, or get all stab-happy with a big jagged piece and kill somebody, which they obviously didn't want happening.

Diego had a tattoo on his right wrist, it was in the exact same place as Jesse's. It was a pretty common; a twisted up spiny thing in the shape of an eight. Diego saw him staring. "My latest. She told me afterwards that it mean's_ 'infinity,'_ he smiled. "Pretty moronic not to check first though, huh? How about yours?"

"A scorpion," he got asked that a lot. It was _abstract._

"Yeah? Does it mean anything?"

"No."

"Cool." Diego nodded, but he didn't want small talk. He wanted Jesse to cooperate. " Do I have to sell it to you? It's water, It's safe, there's no _poison_. Just one sip. C'mon, that's all I'm asking."

_Just one sip, right?_ Jesse knew exactly what he was trying to do.

He used to play this with Aunt Ginny ._ One step at a time_. It had been right toward the end, of course. She just didn't wanna get up anymore. Well, _couldn__'__t _– it wasn't her fault, she was sick. Some mornings, Jesse would do things for her instead of the nurse. He'd try to get her to drink, for example. She said she was too tired to do anything, so, he'd start out with, "_Please, just _one_ sip. For me? Then I__'__ll stop asking."_

But he'd keep going with it. "_That's half now, why not the full thing? __"_Then, she'd need the bathroom. Since she was up and walking around, she might as well change outta the pj's. He'd pick something out. _"The green one, yeah? You like this one." _

That green T-shirt with the sprite can on it. What would his parents be doing with all of that stuff in her room? What would they do with all the stuff in the entire damn house? There was no way they could want it; so maybe they gave it all to Goodwill? They had taken some stuff there already after she died, Jesse had helped to move it. Most of it had stayed, though. Sometimes Jesse would stand in inside her room, and just smoke and look at shit. Or sit on her bed for ages, picking up things up things from her nightstand and putting them back down again.

Anyway, she'd finally be dressed and by then it would be like noon cause it had taken forever to get to that point. He'd say _'I__'__m starving, do you want a sandwich?' _ So, ultimately, if he coaxed hard enough, he could get her up and eating lunch. But then she did love to do things for him, which helped.

Right at the very end, during the last four days, the sips had remained as sips. Sip. Nothing taken. Sip. Nothing taken - (They had to record it all, every hour) She didn't want the drip. Nothing taken, nothing taken, nothing taken. Then the rest of the notebook was blank pages.

He tipped the cup into his puke-bucket and then held his head again.

_"Jesse!" _

"I'm sorry." He really was sorry, because Diego was trying to help him. This guy was about his own age and looked like he should be anywhere else right now but working in a rehab joint, but was babysitting him. Jesse was too numb and too tired to even feel embarrassed about it. He was just another junkie to look after. It wasn't _his_ fault that Jesse was here - _But God he wanted this dude to go away so badly._

"Man, can you just, leave me alone a while? Please."

He'd never held down a real job, but _so_ many customers were _sooo_ fucking difficult. _They _came to _him_ - and then they'd give him shit! He was like, _"_ _You came here! you wanted this_ - so what the hell's your problem, bitch?'

Then again, it wasn't _Jesse_ hadn't come to rehab, begging for treatment. Rehab wasn't for him.

He remembered now that Mr White had brought him here. It had been Mr. White, and that guy in black with the fancy car he might have ruined. He'd said they'd go someplace _nice and safe_. It was stupid, but for a crazy moment Jesse thought that Mr. White was taking him to his own house. That was ridiculous, because he had a family who wouldn't know what the hell to think of some _smack-head_, stray-dog-looking guy being dumped in their home. They'd be welcomed with all the enthusiasm of a cat bringing home a live rat and releasing it. Christ - how about that ball-buster wife who freaked out over just the _idea_ of weed? 'Oh, hey Mrs White, remember me? I'm gonna LIVE with you for a while!' Then she'd like, scream and throw things maybe. She had a rock-bottom opinion of him already, but he just could see her mouth tighten and her eyes widen as they locked onto the track marks on his arm in alarmed disapproval. He didn't even blame her, it was disgusting. Then, of course, most obviously; Mr White wouldn't want Jesse around, cause they hated each other. That part made it confusing, because then why would he have helped and made that scenario happen in the first place?…

He was feeling bad again, really on edge now. Jesse realised that his clothes were drenched because he'd been sweating so much.

"What time did you normally use?" Diego was watching him carefully.

"I don't know. Night?" His eyes suddenly started welling up for no reason, it was like he had no control over it. "Oh _shit."_ Jesse grabbed more toilet paper.

"Hey, it's okay man. It's just between us. How do you feel right now?"

"Really cold." He was gripped by the memory of turning over, half asleep, and of his bare arm touching hers. That awful chill, that was when he had opened his eyes and everything collapsed.

Jane was lying, even colder still, in a fridge somewhere. Her dad might be nearby, just _wishing_ that he could take her away to rehab and endure all this disgusting crap with her.

Jesse shouldn't even be here, surrounded by people enduring him, all just because Mr White had paid some high price. And none of them REALLY giving a shit, not even himself. That wasn't fair, that was some kind of joke.

"That's normal. It's always hardest the first few days. The Doctor's gonna see you later, he'll probably prescribe you methadone. You'll feel a lot better."

_How could he explain?_ "I don't want to feel better."

Diego shook his head. "You hope we'll make it easy on you and just drop this, don't you? Well, I won't." He changed his tone of voice, became lighter again, "So just take one sip, and I'll stop asking."

Jesse was too tired to argue.

* * *

Author notes

Thanks so much for the reviews!

I do feel out of my depth trying to talk about rehab, drug withdrawal, and the NA, as I can't presume to know what these things are really like. So, between what I can research, I'm making up stuff - please bear with me! I originally had no plans to go on beyond chapter one... I'm more interested in the relationships between Walt, Jesse, Mike and Jane. I would actually explain the existence of this fic as a manifestation of my love for Jesse, and my thing for emotional hurt/comfort. I NEED to see people being concerned about Jesse's welfare, dammit!

I do not like the title 'Don't Slam the Door', it was supposed to be the first line of chapter one, and overall means nothing. But if I change it now, I'll just get confused!

(A hopefully permanent change in my living circumstances has cut out my commute, and given me a so much extra time! So I'm definitely going to spend more time on writing.)


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